Harry Potter and the Distorted Professor
by lototheking
Summary: This is the story of Harry Potter, an eleven year old wizard, on the path to complete his destiny, with the help of a distorted guardian, a king, and a Magus.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer – I do not own Harry Potter or any character from the Nasuverse. This is a work of fanfiction.

Prologue

A knock at the door, broke the silence of the small house that the man called home. It was actually a rather nice size house; however, it was quite small to the large man that called it home. That man is Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper _of_ Keys _and_ Grounds _for_ Hogwarts School _of _Witchcraft _and_ Wizardry. He is a giant of a man, standing almost eight feet tall and weighing roughly 30 stones, his black hair long and his beard tangled. He is a simple man who enjoys the simple pleasures of life, a stiff drink and a warm fire. However, today he is expecting a most important guest.

"Come in, Headmaster." Hagrid called out. "The door is open."

"Ah Rubeus, thank you for inviting me to tea." Replied the guest as he entered the cottage.

Hagrid's guest is an old wizened wizard by the name of Albus Dumbledore, the current Headmaster of Hogwarts School and Hagrid's employer of nearly fifty years. Many muggles, the non-magical folk, might imagine Albus Dumbledore as a bit of a hippie. He wears his long grey hair unbounded, with a beard that could be tucked into his belt. Currently the Headmaster was wearing a simple purple robe with a star pattern. To many witches and wizards, Albus Dumbledore portrayed a grandfatherly figure that watched as the next generation began to take the reigns of power. Today, however, he was here for tea and conversation.

"I just put the kettle on, so it should be a minute, would you care for a rock cake Headmaster?" Hagrid offered his guest as he took his seat at the table.

"Maybe with the tea old friend." Replied Dumbledore as he conjured a comfortable looking armchair for himself at the table.

"I am glad you invited me to tea Rubeus, it is rather quiet in the castle currently. In addition, I can escape the silence of my office." Dumbledore said as he gazed out upon the empty grounds of the castle. Even Minerva and Severus had returned to their homes, and without their constant bickering, Albus Dumbledore was rather lonely. Not that he would ever tell anyone.

"Yes the school does seem rather empty with students gone home for the summer." Hagrid spoke solemnly, "However some of the rest of the staff is still here. Sybill and Argus are still here."

"Yes, however, Sybill has confined herself to her tower so that she may view the next school year in her inner eye and Argus is busy cleaning the dungeons." Said Dumbledore. Many questioned Dumbledore at about the appointment of Sybill Trelawney as Professor of Divination; however, he knew that she was a true seer, no matter how many bottles of sherry she drank. Argus, on the other hand, was never very good company. The only reason Argus Filch was still at Hogwarts was because of Albus' predecessor, Headmaster Dippet. He had Argus sign a contract for hundred years or his death, whichever came first.

"I thought you would have been off as well Headmaster?" Questioned Hagrid

"Yes, I have vast quantities of business to attend to over the summer holidays, but, alas I still must take care of our yearly troubles." Sighed Dumblerdore. It truly was an annual problem sometimes bi-annual.

"What troubles headmaster?" Hagrid asked confusedly.

"We are once again in need of a new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor." Dumbledore responded remorsefully.

"What happened to Ambrose, Headmaster? He was so young." Hagrid questioned sadly.

"Mr. Rowlett heard the cry of an Augurey whilst viewing, what he believed to be, a grim. In all reality it was probably just a black dog. Unfortunately, Mr. Rowlett is of the opinion that he will perish if he continues with his position at Hogwarts. So he tendered is resignation forthwith. Tis' A shame, he was an excellent professor." Dumbledore spoke with regret. He had been hoping that Ambrose Rowlett would be the one to break the curse.

"Augurey's only predict the rain professor, everyone, knows that." Hagrid argued.

"Yes, but old superstitions are still firmly ingrained into everyone's minds. So Ambrose Rowlett believes he is safer away from Hogwarts." Dumbledore explained. Despite the evidence to the contrary, many people still believed that Augurey's cries are a sign of death.

"I see." Hagrid replied dejectedly

"My trouble is only confounded by the fact that Harry Potter starts Hogwarts this year." Dumbledore sighed. He knew that the Dark Lord would make some attempt at returning whilst Harry was at Hogwarts. He just wished, he knew how the Dark Lord would make his attempt.

"Has it really been ten years?" Hagrid questioned rhetorically. "Wait, how does little Harry make things different?"

"In order to help him learn to properly defend himself, of course, I fear the Dark Lord will soon attempt to return. Young Harry must have a good foundation in Defense in order to help prepare him for the trouble that has yet to come." Said Dumbledore. He still had not figured out what the 'power he knows not' is in relation to the prophecy. Dumbledore was hoping that somehow Harry would be incredibly talented or show some form of special talent. An excellent professor would help young Harry tremendously.

"I am sure there are some good candidates on the list Headmaster." Hagrid said determinedly.

That was one thing Dumbledore knew was a fallacy. Most of the candidates had been on the list for over a decade. They had not been previously selected for good reason. "Rubeus, may I have you're your opinion on the Applicants. Maybe you will know something that I overlooked. In current years I have not had the opportunity to interact with the students has much as I would like to have interacted with them." Spoke Dumbledore. As much as he hated to admit, Albus Dumbledore was getting old.

"I don't know how much help I can be Headmaster, but I will try." Hagrid responded.

"That is all anyone can ask, Rubeus. The first applicant is Quirinus Quirrell." Said Dumbledore.

Hagrid thought a moment before responding, "I remember him when he was a Hufflepuff years ago. Before he taught Muggle Studies I heard he went to Romania to study the Mountain Trolls. Heard he was attempting to teach them to guard things. I heard he wasn't very successful."

Hagrid's description matched his own quite well. Quirinus Quirrell was an average student, with a strange fascination with trolls. The rumors were that he was forced to flee Romania, because he angered the Vampire Tribes, Dumbledore was of the opinion that he pissed off the von Einzberns. On another note, he was not a very good Muggle Studies Professor, however, that was true for must applicants in that position.

"The second is Gilderoy Lockhart." Said Dumbledore.

"The cheating Ravenclaw" Responded Hagrid immediately. "Course there was never any proof; I heard he's a celebrity now. Says he's fought Yetis and Vampires. I don't believe a word of it. He was scared of the chickens in the field; don't see how he fought a yeti."

Gildorey had one thing going for him, he was handsome. He knew it and flaunted it. It just goes to show that a pretty face can open many doors.

"And the final candidate is Dolores Umbridge." Dumbledore said.

"She's a right character. She was a Slytherin a few years after I was expelled. She is a nasty piece work. She has a prejudice against anything that isn't strictly a witch or wizard." Hagrid spoke with disgust.

Even worse, in his opinion, she was one of Cornelius' lackeys. He spent most of his time at the ministry trying to fix the damage she caused. He remembered that she struggled through many of her classes, especially Defense.

"Now I think I see your problem, Headmaster. None of them are really the sharpest tools in the shed." Hagrid said jokingly.

"Yes that explains the problem quite well. I had been hoping that Alastor would retire this year so that he could teach for Harry's first year. Alas his final apprentice still needs him so he will trudge along." Dumbledore sighed. It really was a shame that Moody had yet to retire; he would be able to inspire the students to take Defense Against the Dark Arts seriously. Alastor would also be able to keep the rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor to a minimum. Dumbledore had been preaching forgiveness to the school for many years, and despite his efforts the rivalry continued to flourish.

As soon as Dumbledore finished speaking the kettle screeched, signaling that the water was boiling. Hagrid quickly pulled out his royal blue dragonhide gloves from one of his many pockets so he could get the kettle.

"Hagrid those are quite impressive gloves, wherever did you get them?" inquired Dumbledore. Dragonhide was a material that could not be colored. That meant the hide must have come from a Swedish Short-Snout. Normally dragonhide gloves, in Great Britain, were a metallic color, from an Ukrainian Ironbelly. Any other color glove would have been rather expensive, especially in Hagrid's size.

"These are some of the pay I got from the trip I took a few years back." Answered Hagrid, as he poured the tea.

"Ahh, yes, the trip you went on that collected creatures and herbs for various establishments." Said Dumbledore as he sipped some tea. He did not realize that Hagrid's trip was so profitable. Gloves of that quality would cost around fifty galleons. That was about a quarter of Hagrid's yearly salary.

"I got to see 8 different species of dragons, it was truly wonderful. I also got to hear some outrageous stories." Hagrid spoke fondly. After a second his eyes lit up as if something he remembered was vastly important to the conversation.

"Headmaster, I might have an idea about a different Professor." Hagrid said excitedly.

"I fail to see how dragons would make a good Defense Professor, old friend." Dumbledore said amusingly. Trust Hagrid to think that dragons would make good professors.

"It's not the dragons Headmaster, but the man who organized the voyage. He goes on voyages to collect various materials and ingredients for various vendors all the time. He is very knowledgeable about creatures and plants." Hagrid said.

"Sounds like your kind of person Hagrid." Dumbledore responded. He still failed to see how this man would be a good defense professor, maybe a Herbology Professor or Care for Magical Creatures Instructor. He had been hoping to offer the position to Hagrid once Professor Kettleburn retired.

"Yes, he is my friend. However, he did some pretty amazing things on this trip. On the trip he slew three feral dragons, a right nasty bunch of dragons." Hagrid said with excitement.

"I personally saw him fend of a Manticore, a small Basilisk, and a Nundu of all things. He is not a man to be easily intimidated." Hagrid said

"Seems, he has the courage of a Gryffindor." Dumbledore said with some humor. A man with those types of talents would indeed be a good teacher. With his sense of adventure, maybe this man could spark Harry Potter's interest in Defense.

"What about his dueling skills?" Inquired Dumbledore. Creatures were only half the course; the other primary purpose of the Defense course is to teach the students how to defend themselves from other wizards.

"At one point on the trip, we were attacked by a force of poachers. The poachers consisted of five wizards and two trolls. I don't remember him casting any spells, but in only a few seconds, all of the poachers were stopped." Hagrid spoke with reverence.

"He sounds very talented and very brave if he hunts dragons. What is this students name surely I will remember him?" asked Dumbledore. He had been Headmaster for almost half a century, and a teacher for some time longer, and with all his positions he knew, at least in passing, most of Wizarding Britain. Which was quite a feat since the last count of the population was close to five hundred thousand.

"That's the thing headmaster he didn't go to Hogwarts. He is from overseas, Japan I think. I don't know too much about his education. Only what I saw of him." Said Hagrid. "I just think he would be a good man for the job."

"Very well, Rubeus, what is this mysterious mans name?" asked Dumbledore.

"Shirou Emiya"


	2. The Propositions

Disclaimer – I do not own Harry Potter or any character from the Nasuverse. This is a work of fanfiction.

_Authors Note –_ Thank you all for reviewing. I was honestly quite surprised at how many people found my idea interesting, I hope you all stay with me. Expect updates rather slowly, maybe every other week or two. This is my first time even attempting a fanfiction, and I think I started too large but I like to see things through to the end.

In response to everyone's questions. I will attempt to answer all the questions within the scope of the story. That being said, I would like to call out Zio. It was not my intention to show that Dumbledore went to Hagrid with his problems. Dumbledore went to Hagrid for tea and conversation; remember Hagrid is sixty years old and has been working for Dumbledore for most of his life. Hagrid's position is not a janitorial position; He is Keeper of Keys and Grounds for Hogwarts. That means he mans the fields, patrols the forest, open and closes the gate. I hope that helps.

**The Propositions**

On a hill, on the outskirts of London, a man appeared with a gust of wind. The twilight sky, made him seem otherworldly. The man stood a little over six feet tall, making him rather tall for his nationality. The light from the setting sun, made his hair glow with a silvery sheen. He was dressed in black leather slacks and a light grey shirt. As he began his walk home, his midnight black dragonhide over coat billowed in the wind as his heavy leather boots made heavy sounds on the grass as he marched towards the pavement. He was quite proud of his coat; it was his father's before him. He had found it in his father's vault at Gringotts along with a sizable amount of funds.

This man is Shirou Emiya, the technical winner of the brutal Fifth Holy Grail War and currently a Master Hunter/Scavenger and Captain/Owner of the _Queen Anne's Revenge_. He had just returned from a quick trip to Central Africa. A client had offered five hundred galleons for ten wild Fwoopers. He did not know why the man offered so much gold for the multi-colored birds. Honestly, who would purposely keep songbirds that sang their owners into insanity? Oh well, it wasn't his problem.

As he passed through the wards to his home, he noticed both of his wives were home. Their home in England was nothing compared to Rin's manor home or the Emiya Estate in Fuyuki City, but it was of a good size. It was a simple two story country house on the outskirts of London.

As he entered the door he was greeted by the elder of his two wives, Saber.

"Welcome Home, Shirou." Spoke Saber softly. Arturia Pendragon, his first love, she was better known to all as King Arthur. Saber had not aged a day since he had summoned her to his side in Fifth Holy Grail War. She still kept her casual clothes of a simple white blouse and a long blue skirt. The only thing that she had changed throughout the years was her hair. She often let her hair down now; actually, she only put it up nowadays in order to practice her swordsmanship.

"It is good to be home, Saber." He spoke. He had only been gone a week, but it is quite lonely to be by yourself in the jungles of Africa. There were only two major magical settlements in Africa, the Magical City of Alexandria and The Silent Coast.

"Shirou, you know, with that tan and the long coat. You almost look like him." Saber spoke hesitantly. It was true; the jungle had indeed darkened his skin. If he had been wearing red he would look exactly like Archer, his alternative self from a war torn future.

"I would rather look more like my father." He replied jokingly.

"Almost, but your hair will never be as wild as Kiritsugu." Saber jibed. Indeed his short spiked hair would probably never grow into the wild mess that his adoptive father, Kiritsugu Emiya, called hair.

"I see that Rin is still caught up in her research, so I will make dinner." Shirou spoke as he hung his coat in the closet. Cooking was still one of his greatest passions; maybe it was the monotonous work or the time to reflect. He didn't know, but it didn't matter.

"Would you like anything specific for dinner, Saber?" he asked.

"Rin had mentioned something about steak and potatoes." She responded.

"Okay."

Saber's tastes had never really developed from her time. She still preferred a simple diet of grilled meat and vegetables. It was quite a bit different from the Japanese style of cooking he had learned on but he had grown to enjoy a more proper English diet. As he began preparing dinner, he reflected on his life up to this point.

After defeating, Gilgamesh in the courtyard of the Ryuudouji Temple, he rushed to assist Saber and Rin. He found them right after Saber had used Excalibur to destroy the glutinous mass that was the Holy Grail, hopefully once and for all. Rin had escaped the blast with Shinji, however he soon perished from his wounds.

All three of them took several days to recuperate from the war, but time went on and he and Rin, returned to school. By that time they were officially a couple, which made them a hot topic for gossip. The gossip was doubled, after Taiga his teacher/older sister/mother figure/lazy moocher, accidentally let it slip that they were living together. After they both finished high school, Rin was accepted to continue her research at Clock Tower. So they all moved to England.

The original plan was to have Saber and him, pose as Rin's apprentices. However when they reached the dorms at a Clock Tower, they were informed that a studying Magi was only allowed to have a single apprentice. So it was decided that Saber would stay close to Rin in order to conserve prana. Shirou, on the other hand, was left to find is own means in a foreign country, good thing he paid attention in all those English classes. It would have been truly difficult for him if he hadn't been fluent in English.

So, with some guidance from Rin, he set out for Diagon Alley in search of job. His only problem was he did not practice standard western magic. Kiritsugu and Rin always looked down on regular wizards, foolish wand wavers she sometimes called them. However here in England, unlike Japan, wand carriers were the standard practitioners of magic. Magi were actually quite a rare commodity in Wizarding England. Clock Tower itself only had hundred students at any one time. In a population of roughly five hundred thousand (~1% of the pop. of England) are witches and wizards, there are only about five thousand Magi. It surprised him that Magi were actually not the primary magical community in the world but actually more of a strange religious cult. However, proper Magi were revered by the common masses because of their long exalted history. If he had to explain the Magi's place in the world to an American, he would relate their position to that of a Free Mason. Almost every important historical figure was a Magi. Such great figures like Merlin, Salazaar Sytherin, Rowena Ravenclaw were all Magi.

After a little research on his part, and a rather loud lecture from Rin, he came to understand that Magi looked down at wand carriers not because of their wands, but how they treated their wands. To a Magi, a wand is the equivalent of the first type of a Mystic Code. Simply put there are two types of Mystic Codes. The first type is the magical amplifier that contained such things as wands, staves, or Rin's Jewels. The second type of Mystic Code is that of Mysteries, like his fathers handgun the Thompson Contender and it's Origin Bullets.

Wizard wands were the equivalent to pre-made store bought mystic codes. The very thought of purchasing a Mystic Code was insulting to all Magi. It was something that Shirou agreed with whole heartedly.

Wandcraft, as the wizards called it, was a bastardization of proper magic. Wizards were often just not magically skilled enough to use their magic properly. All of the major schools of Magic in Europe, minus Clock Tower, taught magic based solely off preset Latin conditions. One "spell" only did one thing. However, it was useful to him, he could cast "wandlessly" surprising the majority of the population.

It was actually pretty common that Magi used wands or staves to set up their workshops of any other complicated ritual. The wizarding world's limited view on wands had caused laziness in the community almost entirely halting the progress of society.

Hell even Castor, from the Fifth Grail War had used a wand. From his investigations into the other Masters of that brutal conflict, he had found that it was most likely that Medea had been summoned by her own wand.

So in order to earn a little bit of prestige as a Magi, he made his own wand, with a little help from Rin and some items he found in Kiritsugu vault. It was a simple thing ten inches of pine with a core of a few unicorn hairs.

With a wand in hand he searched for a suitable position. Fortunately enough for him, or unfortunately enough depending on how you look at the situation, they had moved to England in the summer of 1978, right at the height of the reign of the Dark Lord Voldemort. This meant there were plenty of body guard positions available. He moved from job to job protecting people from Death Eaters, until one day when he came across Capt. Marshall Teach of the _Queen Anne's Revenge._ Teach had recently been grievously injured on one of his previous expeditions. He had lost both his legs and his wand arm to a particularly nasty nundu. The beast had taken the life of his two apprentice and he had been lucky to escape with his life.

Teach was in need of a crew, and by crew he meant a single apprentice with courage and a strong back. The pay was on commission but Teach was a major provider of wild creatures (and pieces) and magical herbs for Diagon Alley, so the money was excellent. Even with a reduced cut, Shirou made roughly a hundred galleons a month, nearly six times the average wizard's salary.

He traveled the world with Teach learning all he could from the old sailor. Teach taught him the basics of western magic. Shirou was most skilled in art of Transfiguration; to him it was a simpler and less effective version of tracing. It surprised him on how easy it was for him to understand and apply transfiguration into his combat style. It would allow him to create cover to hide behind or other targets to occupy his opponents, the possibilities were endless to him. The second major art was charms. This was much like Rin's preset gandrs only less powerful. Only the most powerful of hexes would begin to damage a properly trained magus. With his reinforcement, a cutting hex would be no more painful than paper cut.

Shirou also learned the practical aspects of creatures and plants. He learned how to harvest creatures for everything of value with damaging their habitats. He also learned which plants were valuable for potions and medicines.

However, Shirou was not a natural at everything. Even with proper teachers, he would never be potioneer. So far he had exploded thirty cauldrons in his attempts to brew a simple potion. Rin had banned him from all potions labs like Saber had been banned from the kitchen.

However, his peaceful lifestyle was soon interrupted. In early July, 1980 on a return trip to England, Death Eaters attacked the _Queen _right after they had docked at the harbor. At what would become known as the Battle of Fishermen's Coast, Shirou and Teach let loose hell against the twenty marked followers of the Dark Lord Voldemort, it was a valiant stand, but the Death Eaters achieved their objective that day.

Marshall Teach lay dead at the helm of his ancestral vessel.

Shirou was stuck by a particularly nasty curse that was meant to mummify him, however, his abilities prevented the curse from complete taking effect, however the curse did damage his skin. Shirou was then forced to lie in a bed at St. Mungo's for over a month due to the his injuries from the battle. He made friends with his roommates, and his, now two, girlfriends visited him often. He used the month and a half he was chained to the bed, literally after the nurses thwarted his third escape attempt, to study Ancient Runes and Arthmacy. Arthmacy was simple to him, because unlike most wizards, he had attended high school. Arthmacy never surpassed simple geometry and entry level calculus, so after he learned the magical meanings of the numbers it was a simple application. Ancient Runes was also a pretty straight forward subject, it was just like learning another language. His roommates helped him a lot in his studies. In reality, Shirou could read runes and use basic runic arrays, but he would have to spend significant time on any more complicated arrays.

After he was released from the hospital he was contacted by the goblins of Gringotts. It turned out that Teach had no heirs or any siblings, like Shirou he was the last of his line, so he had left his entire business and vessel to Shirou. The goblins then offered all of Teach's contracts to him, so Shirou Emiya became a Master Hunter/Scavenger. However, before he could continue his profession, the Dark Lord needed to be stopped. Shirou dedicated the next year to harassing Voldemort's Troops. It was Shirou that wiped out the Rossier family. He had discovered that the entire family had taken the Mark, so he struck in the middle of the night. Bakuya and Kanshou gleamed in the moonlight each time he struck. The family used all sorts of curses against him but few even scratched him, if they even connected. Wizards had never properly fought against a Magus of his caliber, his Od coursed through his Magic Circuits and his nerves, creating near perfect Reinforcement. The foolish Dark Wizards stood no chance against Shirou. It was over in under an hour. As he left, he set the house ablaze with FiendFyre, it was days before Voldemort discovered his followers destroyed.

Shirou single handedly scared off the Vampires of England. His name alone was enough for anything less than a Dead Apostle to flee in terror. He trimmed the werewolf population by a third at was to be known as The Slaughter of Bowland Forest. He did all these things in shadows, in order to stay a secret from the political powers. He did not want anyone looking to deeply into his own past; it would do more harm than good.

Then suddenly the war was over, on October 31, 1981, Voldemort was vanquished by a one year old child. The press hailed him as The-Boy-Who-Lived. So Shirou once again slipped into anonymity. He took his NEWT's at the Ministry of Magic later that year and passed with almost straight O's. That night Rin and Saber rewarded him by wearing nothing but Oxford caps; that was the first night that all three of them shared the same bed, and they had continued to this very day. He proposed to both Rin and Saber later that year. They were officially married and bound by law and magic on November 20, 1982. It had almost been nine years since then.

In the following years he continued to travel the world, fighting monsters and saving the innocents. He had finally accomplished his dream, he was a hero.

As he was bringing dinner out to the table, he noticed that Rin had decided to grace him with her presence. She had not changed much over the years; she was still tsundere, so he knew better than to disturb her while she was reading. Age had done wonders for her beauty, her face had become more defined and her hips had widened a bit giving her a perfect hourglass figure. However, Rin still dressed like she did in high school, a dark red sweater and a short black skirt. Like Saber, Rin had let her hair grow out giving her long graceful black hair.

"Welcome Home, Shirou." She spoke without even looking up from her book.

This he had become used to; Rin was constantly attempting to recreate the Second True Magic via the notes left to her family by Zeltrech. It was her life goal, like it was his goal to become a hero. Who was he to stand in her way?

However, right as they were about to start dinner, they all stiffened. Someone or something powerful had just crossed their outer wards. He could sense the intent of the individual, he was almost certain it was curiosity. However, one does not survive by putting their faith in an uninvited guest.

"Were we expecting anyone?" Rin asked Saber.

"I do not recall inviting anyone to dinner tonight'" she replied.

"It does not feel like one of my clients, or an intruder." Shirou stated.

"Yes, the intent feels like . . . Curiosity?" Rin stated hesitantly.

Then suddenly, the doorbell chimed twice.

"I will go." Saber stated as she quickly walked out of sight. After a few moments she returned with an elderly gentleman he did not immediately recognize. Rin on the other hand seemed to know who he was instantly.

"Headmaster Dumbledore" Rin spoke quietly to the guest. Finally Shirou recognized the famous wizard, how could he not know the wizard, he had been a major political power for the better part of a century. He was hailed as the greatest light wizard of current times. For the life of him, Shirou, had no idea why this man was in his house.

"I am sorry to call so late. As you all know I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I have come here tonight in order to offer a business deal with the house of Emiya." Dumbledore spoke officially.

Rin was the first one to regain control from her surprise. It was not everyday that the most prominent Wizard of the times came to visit.

"We were just about to sit down to dinner, please join us, then we can talk business afterwards." Rin offered the esteemed headmaster.

After quickly drawing up another chair for Headmaster Dumbledore, dinner was a simple affair. The conversation was light; Dumbledore was slightly interested in their marriage. Though the law is still in effect it was not entirely common practice. Mostly Darker families took advantage of the old laws in ordered to propagate their blood lines. He asked about Rin's research and they held a discussion that neither Saber nor Shirou could really follow.

After dinner was finished Dumbledore finally got around to his reason for being in the house.

"Ahh, it has been quite a long time since I have had such an intellectual debate, Thank you. But now I believe it is time to explain the reasons for my presence." Dumbledore spoke with the usual twinkle in his eye.

The rest of the table agreed.

"I am here to offer Shirou the position Professorship at Hogwarts. We are once again in need of a Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor for all seven levels at Hogwarts." Dumbledore spoke with all sincerity.

"While I am honored that you have considered me for this position, I have not applied for such a position, Headmaster." Shirou argued the obvious.

"Yes, I am aware, you were recommended to me by a mutual acquaintance and friend, Rubeus Hagrid." Dumbledore said. "I have offered you the position out of desperation. You see, over the last several decades, the Defense position has never been occupied by one individual for more than a single year. For the first decade, there were many capable applicants, but slowly fewer and fewer individuals applied for the position. Currently, only undesirables populate the applicant list.

"I have heard about the curse in passing, What makes you think I will not suffer the same fate? Questioned Shirou.

"I believe that because of your status as a Magus, the curse will not affect you. Of course there is no guarantee, but it is a risk I am willing to take." Replied Dumbledore.

"You are asking me to risk my life, to teach." Shirou stated.

"Yes."

He knew both Rin and Saber would be angry with him, but he had seen how truly pathetic wizards were at defending themselves.

"Let us talk terms then." Shirou answered.

It took several hours but they had all eventually come to an agreement. For around fifteen thousand galleons a year, Shirou would teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. If and when he survived, two years of teaching, Rin and Saber would then be able to move into the castle with him.

After saying farewell to Albus Dumbledore, Shirou closed the door and sighed. He could feel their anger from here. He turned to find Rin standing with her hands fisted on her hips, he recognized that pose, and nothing good came from that pose.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

><p>Harry Potter could honestly admit he was terrified. He did not know what the letter Hagrid gave to the Goblin had said, but it seemed to make the goblin upset. Then the goblin spat something in its native language and more goblins showed up to take offense at the letter.<p>

"Umm, Hagrid what was that letter about?" asked Harry quietly. He did not want to pry into Hagrid's business, but, the goblins were really starting to worry him.

"It was just permission to pick up something for Hogwarts. I don't know why the goblins got so upset." Responded Hagrid. But after seeing Harry's worried look he decided to ask what the commotion was all about.

"What is the problem?" Hagrid asked the goblins worriedly. Harry hoped it did not have anything to do with his presence. He did not want to cause Hagrid any trouble.

"You, Mr. Hagrid, wish to pick up the object from the vault specified in the letter, correct?" asked the first goblin. Harry was relieved that this incident was not his fault and briefly wondered what Hagrid was supposed to pick up.

"Yes." Hagrid responded.

"You will then carry said object, a priceless artifact, around with you whilst shopping in the Alley?" the goblin continued as if speaking down to a small child.

"That is the plan." Hagrid said.

"Do you not see the problem?" another goblin asked. It seemed that the goblins had found a fault with Hagrid's logic.

"Ahh, no." Hagrid replied confusedly.

This seemed to be the wrong thing to say. The goblins once again began arguing in their native tongue. After a few moments, one goblin spoke up. "Mr. Hagrid, we can not in good faith, let you transport the artifact whilst shopping with Mr. Potter. You must choose one task or the other."

"But, Dumbledore said, 'Pick up the package and then bring it back as quickly as possible.' And Little Harry here needs to fetch his school stuff."

"Little' thought Harry wanting to take offence, but there were more important things to think of right now. He was somehow keeping Hagrid from doing his job. He did not want to burden Hagrid so he had to speak up.

"I can go alone from here Hagrid." He said hesitantly.

"NO" Hagrid almost bellowed. "Harry it could be dangerous for a young lad in the alley. Someone has to protect you from any shifty types. Plus you have never been to the Alley before, someone will have to show you all the shops."

Harry was confused to why he needed protecting but he determined it must have to due with the way everyone treated him in the Leaky Cauldron. He was also afraid of being alone in the Alley, but he could take care of himself. He had before, why should now be any different.

"But, Hagrid, I don't want to be a bu—" Harry attempted to argue,

However the goblins choose this moment to interrupt. "If a chaperone is all that is required, let us find an alternative. I believe another member of Hogwarts staff is currently in the bank."

"Who?" Hagrid asked.

"Sir Shirou is currently in the bank. It is our understanding that he is to be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, would he be an acceptable chaperone for young Mr. Potter?" questioned the goblin. Hagrid was visibly relieved.

"Shirou, is here. Yeah he would definitely be okay. Not many people would dare bother a Magus. I will need to explain things to him." Hagrid told the goblins.

"Very well, let us take you to him."

* * *

><p>Shirou had just finished trading his recently acquired goods with Mr. Malkin. It was a good deal netting him almost seven hundred galleons. He was just about to exit Gringotts when he was approached by his old friend Snarlteeth. Snarlteeth was his primary contact with Gringotts, when they had work for him; Snarlteeth was the one to approach him. Curse breaking expeditions with Gringotts yielded him a lot of gold and they were generally exciting.<p>

"How can I help you today, Snarl." Shirou asked the goblin.

"Sir Shirou, we have need of your presence in order to settle a small dispute, if you could please follow me." Snarlteeth instructed him.

Shirou only replied with a nodded of his head. It was strange usually the goblins liked to take care of any disputes internally. As he followed Snarlteeth, he wondered if he should be worried, the goblins would not have asked for his help unless they needed his specific talents. So when he was lead into a room with his friend Hagrid, he was mildly surprised.

"Hagrid, it has been a while." Shirou greeted his friend.

"Yeah the last time I saw you were that poker game in Hogs Head, back in January. You were doing business with ol' Fletch." Hagrid replied.

Shirou was not particularly fond of Mundungus Fletcher. The only reason he associated with the drunken thief was because he had good contacts for venoms.

"So do you know why the goblins have brought me here?" Shirou asked Hagrid. Because he seriously doubted that the goblins would bring him here to harm Hagrid. Hagrid couldn't even legally do magic.

"Yeah, that is apparently my fault. I am supposed to pick up a certain something for Dumbledore and escort little Harry here to get his school things, but the goblins seemed to take some offence to that plan." Hagrid offered. Of course, Shirou knew what Hagrid was talking about. He couldn't understand why Dumbledore felt it necessary to hide something so valuable in a school. However, as they say, he is the boss.

That was when Shirou noticed the small child at Hagrid's feet. He was rather small even for an eleven year old. He looked terrified.

"Hello, Harry." Shirou offered to the boy.

"So you need me to do what exactly?" Shirou asked Hagrid.

"The goblins were hoping that you could watch over Harry here while he did his school shopping." Hagrid said.

"I don't see a problem with that. What do you think Harry?" Shirou questioned.

"I don't want to be a burden sir."

"No burden, I just finished my business here in the bank. I just need to make a stop off to my vault and then we can begin. Actually, as a teacher, it would be irresponsible of me not to help you." Shirou comforted the boy.

"Thank you, Professor." Harry said with some hope. Hagrid was great, but he wasn't very good at answering questions.


	3. A Day in Diagon Alley

Disclaimer – I do not own Harry Potter or any character from the Nasuverse. This is a work of fan fiction.

Author's Note – First off, Thank you all for reading and reviewing. I take all reviews seriously, so please if you find a problem with my story, please let me know. A few lines from the story are taken directly from the first book; I didn't really want to change much of the Ollivanders scene.

I wanted to explain why I choose to use an older Shirou instead of a younger one. The goal I am trying to accomplish is that Harry will look towards Shirou has a mentor, as an Adult. In the books Harry does not really have any adults to look up to, that is the position I am trying for with Shirou. A younger Shirou would not have that adult feeling. The Shirou I have created is the same age as Harry's parents.

That being said on with the chapter.

**A Day in Diagon Alley**

After saying farewell to Hagrid, Harry was lead by his new chaperone down a side chamber. Unlike the rest of the bank, this corridor was cave-like dark, damp, and lit by torches. It was to his great surprise when the corridor led to a small cart on a railway that seemed to head deep underground.

The goblin, Snarlteeth, quickly jumped into the front of the cart.

"Where to first?" Snarlteeth asked with a growl.

"Let us head to my vault first and then to Harry's vault." Prof. Emiya responded as they both entered the cart.

As soon as they were seated the cart was off like a pistol. It hurtled down the track like a rollercoaster, and Harry Potter was thrilled. He had never gotten to go on a rollercoaster. Every time the Dursley's went to an Amusement Park he got left with Mrs. Figg and her cats.

As they hurtled down the path Harry could have sworn he saw a burst of flame. Hagrid was right; they really did guard your money with dragons.

After passing over an underground lake where huge stalactites and stalagmites grew from the ceiling and floor, Harry decided to 'bite the proverbially bullet' and ask Prof. Emiya a question. "I never know, what's the difference between a stalactite and a stalagmite?"

"Stalagmites are the ones on the ground and stalactites are the ones on the ceiling. An easy way to remember is a stalagmite has a "G" in it for ground and stalactites as a "C" in it for Ceiling." The professor answered.

Harry was ecstatic. It seemed that his new tour guide actually could answer questions. Hagrid probably would have answered something like 'stalagmites is the one with the 'M' in it.' Not that he didn't like Hagrid; he just knew that Hagrid wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. He was also glad that this professor did not seem nervous around him like that Prof. Quirrell he had met at the Leaky Cauldron, his stuttering made him really hard to understand. Harry was glad he didn't have to take Muggle Studies, It would be impossible to learn anything with that stutter.

After a few minutes they arrived at the Professor's vault. "Vault 119." Stated Snarlteeth as the cart screeched to a halt. He and the professor both got out of the cart, and the professor walked up to the vault door and placed his hand on one of the panels and then the vault door vanished. Harry let at a small gasp of surprise, while the professor chuckled at the antics of his young charge as he entered his vault.

Harry did not know what he was expecting to see in the older wizards vault. He thought maybe mounds of gold and jewels or maybe even weapons and armor. He was kind of disappointed to find out that the Professors vault mostly contained wooden boxes and a large pile of small sacks. Prof. Emiya quickly pulled a couple of small sacks from his coat and tossed them onto the pile and then they exited the vault and returned to the cart.

"What was in the sacks Professor?" Harry asked inquisitively as only a young child can.

"Those were money bags, Harry; I deposited six bags with a hundred Galleons per bag just now." Prof. Emiya answered.

"What's a Galleon, Professor?" Harry questioned. He remembered the Knuts from the owl this morning, but he didn't realize that the magical world used something so different from English Pounds.

"Didn't your guardians teach you about wizarding money?" the professor asked. Harry quickly shook his head in the negative and responded, "My relatives are not magical, sir. They wanted nothing to do with magic."

The Professor looked as if he were going to pry, but quickly decided against that line of questioning. As he was about give a little lecture about wizarding money the cart once again screeched to a halt.

Snarlteeth quickly unlocked the vault door using Harry's key. A lot of green smoke came billowing out, and as it cleared, Harry gasped. Inside were mounds of gold coins, columns of silver and heaps of little bronze Knuts.

"Is this all mine?" He asked rhetorically.

"It's your vault so, yeah." Prof. Emiya stated the obvious.

The Dursley's couldn't have known about this or they'd have had it from him faster than you could blink. How often had they complained how much Harry cost them to keep? And all the time there had been a small fortune belonging to him, buried deep under London.

"The gold ones are Galleons," Prof. Emiya explained. "Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine bronze Knuts to a Sickle. A Galleon is worth about Eleven Pounds Harry. The average wizard makes about two hundred Galleons a year."

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing; his vault probably had over ten thousand Galleons at least. He probably wouldn't have to work his entire life if he wanted too. However, the Professor wasn't finished with his explanation.

"A couple of Knuts will get you a newspaper or some candy. A couple of Sickles will get you dinner at most wizarding restaurants. A Galleon or two will get you a new tome." Prof. Emiya explained. Harry was glad for the examples, you can be told how money works, but it is nice to understand how much things are worth.

After gathering some gold and a wild ride back up to the surface they were ready to start shopping.

* * *

><p>Harry did not know where to run to first now that he had a bag full of money. So he looked towards the professor for guidance.<p>

"We best get your wand first. They say Ollivanders is the best wand maker in Britain." Prof. Emiya said with a frown.

Harry didn't notice his frown. He was too excited, a magic wand, now that would really make him a wizard. It was probably going to be the most exciting part of the day. He was really disappointed to find out that Ollivanders was a small run down shop with dusty windows. The peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.

As they entered, Harry felt as if they were intruding into the lair of a mad scientist. The eerie stillness of the shop put him on edge.

"Good morning," said a soft voice. Harry jumped at the sound, the professor on the other hand made no movement.

An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.

"Hello," said Harry awkwardly.

"Ah, yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter." It wasn't a question. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."

Mr. Ollivander moved closer to Harry. Harry wished he would blink. Those silvery eyes were a bit creepy.

"Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand, Eleven inches, pliable, A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it – it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

Mr. Ollivander had come so close that he and Harry were almost nose to nose. Harry could see himself reflected in those misty eyes.

"And that's where…"

Mr. Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Harry's forehead with a long, white finger.

"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly. "Thirteen-and-a-half inches, yew, Powerful wand, very powerful in the wrong hands…well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do…"

He shook his head and then, to Harry's relief, spotted Professor Emiya.

"Ah, Shirou, I am afraid I do not have any business for you right now, maybe next time." Ollivander said hopefully.

"It's alright Ollivander; I am here with Mr. Potter today." Prof. Emiya responded.

"Well, then – Mr. Potter, Let me see." He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"

"Err – well, I'm right-handed," said Harry.

"Hold out your arm. That's it." He measured Harry from his arm span to the distance between his eyes. Harry did not understand how some of Mr. Ollivander's measurement would help him select a wand. After the tape measure was finished measuring him Mr. Ollivander handed him a wand.

Well, go on, give it a wave." He demanded.

Harry waved the wand around a bit before Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of his hand at once. Harry tried and tried. He had no idea what Mr. Ollivander was waiting for. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the counter, but the more wands Mr. Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to become.

"Tricky customer, huh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere – I wonder, now – yes, why not – unusual combination – holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

Harry took the wand. He felt warmth in his fingers and a charge of energy in his body. He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls.

Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well…how curious… how very curious…"

He put Harry's wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering, "Curious…curious…"

"Sorry," said Harry, "but _what's_ curious?"

Mr. Ollivander fixed Harry with his pale stare.

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter, Every Single Wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather – Just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother – why, its brother gave you that scar."

Harry gulped.

"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches, yew. It is Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember… I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter… After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things – terrible, yes, but great."

Harry shivered. He wasn't sure he liked Mr. Ollivander too much. He paid seven Galleons for his wand, and Mr. Ollivander bowed them from his shop.

"Is he always that creepy?" Harry asked Prof Emiya as they were walking down the alley.

"Yes, though it is to be expected. As his sign says, He has been selling wands in London since 382 B.C." Prof. Emiya answered.

"Wait, you're telling me that Mr. Ollivander is over a thousand years old? How is that even possible?"

The Professor chuckled and then answered, "Though I do not know the whole story, I would assume that he is part Fae, which would account for his unnaturally long life span. It is very common, Harry, to be of a mixed ancestry. I know for a fact that Hagrid is half-giant. One thing to note, it is often considered rude to ask people about their heritage, do you understand Harry."

Harry nodded in the affirmative.

* * *

><p>Their second stop in the alley was a store called Tommy's Trunks and Babette's Bags, to get Harry a suitable steamer trunk. It would contain his entire life for the next seven years, so he purchased a nice large oak trunk. It was expensive, but as Harry had seen in the Professor's vault, there is always a need for a good box.<p>

After buying the trunk, Harry and Prof. Emiya went to collect the rest of his supplies. They picked up a collapsible brass telescope from one of the vendors next to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. Harry was beyond happy he got his own telescope not just something Dudley broke and then threw away.

Inside an Apothecary, that smelled of rotten eggs and manure which wasn't to surprising since rotten eggs were three Knuts apiece and fourteen Sickles for a bag of Unicorn Manure, they picked up all of Harry's basic potion supplies, a cauldron, a set of brass scales, and a set of crystal vials. Harry tried to get a golden cauldron but Prof. Emiya said he should wait to see if he was any good at brewing before buying such an expensive cauldron.

Late in the mourning Prof. Emiya led Harry into Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve.

"Shirou! You've finally come to let me fix up that coat of yours." She said as soon as she spotted the professor.

"There is nothing wrong with my coat Milly and, no I have a first year student for Hogwarts. He needs a full set of robes." Prof. Emiya said defensively. Harry had to agree, the Professor's coat made him look kind of cool, all he needed was a motorcycle and he would look like a biker.

"Oh, got the lot here – another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."

In the back of the shop, a chubby boy, with a round face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Madam Malkin stood Harry on a stool next to the boy, slipped a long robe over his head, and began to pin it to the right length.

"Hello," stuttered the boy, "I'm Neville."

"Harry."

"Are you excited to be going to Hogwarts, it's the best magic school in Britain." Neville said in a nervous tone. He seemed to be afraid of his own shadow. "Gran didn't think I would get in at all, we were all surprised when my letter showed up."

"I didn't know magic existed till my letter showed up." Harry said.

"So you're a muggleborn, then. That is alright so was my mum. So is that your dad then?" Neville nodded toward Prof. Emiya.

"No, that is Prof. Emiya he is a teacher at Hogwarts." Harry responded. He was glad that the boy was easy to talk with.

"He must be the new Defense Professor, then." Neville responded.

At that moment Madam Malkin interrupted their conversation.

"Shirou, I did not know you were going to be teaching. How did that happen?"

"Dumbledore." Prof. Emiya said as if that explained everything.

"I see." Madam Malkin nodded sagely, "he is good at that isn't he." Harry didn't know who this 'Dumbledore' person was but the rest of the shop seemed to agree with Madam Malkin. He knew that Hagrid seemed to respect this 'Dumbledore' but he didn't know that he was so widely known.

That's you done dear. The other witch said to Neville.

"I'll see you at Hogwarts then, hopefully were in the same house." Neville called as he left. Harry was sad to see him go it was nice to talk to someone else his age.

It took Madam Malkin almost an hour to get Harry everything. Not only did he get his school uniform, but Madam Malkin insisted he also get some more casual clothes. 'I'll not have a customer of mine looking like a street rat' the madam declared. At least he wouldn't have to wear Dudley's old hand-me-downs at Hogwarts.

Harry was rather subdued after the exiting Madam Malkins in his new clothes.

"What's the problem, Harry? Don't like the new look." Prof. Emiya asked.

"No, I love the new clothes…" He really did like the new clothes. He was now wearing a simple striped shirt and a pair of new jeans. Madam Malkin had also talked him into getting new unmentionables and a decent pair of shoes.

"But…" Prof. Emiya continued.

"Professor, what's a muggleborn?" Harry asked.

"Ah what Neville said? You are not a muggleborn." Prof. Emiya answered.

"You need to understand Harry, heritage is very important in the wizarding world; it shows other people how dedicated your family is to the study of magic. A muggleborn is a first generation magic user. A half-blood is a witch or wizard who can track their magical heritage back one to four generations. A pureblood is a witch or wizard that can track their magical heritage at least five generations. You Harry, are a Potter, the Potter Heritage dates back to the end of the Peverell line, around 700 years of history." Prof. Emiya lectured.

"Is it bad to be a muggleborn?" Harry asked. He needed to know if Neville was insulting him, he seemed nice, but even Dudley knew how to act properly.

"Not to most wizards. Magic has to come from somewhere. However, there are certain witches and wizards that believe differently, it was what the last war was about." Prof. Emiya explained. "You do not need to worry Harry, Neville wasn't insulting you. Remember he said that his mother was a muggleborn."

"You're right Professor." Harry said. He should have remembered that Neville had said that, maybe they could be friends. Harry hadn't had too many friends, but, now that Dudley wouldn't be there. Maybe, just maybe, he could have friends.

"What did he mean by house?" Harry asked.

"Hogwarts has four houses that the students get sorted into. They are Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Slytherin, and Gryffindor. You will get placed into a house the first day." Prof Emiya explained.

The last stop before lunch was Holly's Supplies and Ink. It was probably the least magical looking store in the Alley. The shelves were stacked with various colored quills, calligraphy pens, parchment, paper and ink. Prof. Emiya explained that the Muggle paper reacts strangely to magic, so it was cheaper for the wizarding world to use parchment. Parchment could be made expediently through the use of mage craft. So Harry bought 150 meters of parchment (about a ream of paper).

"Professor, why do wizards use quills?" Harry asked as he was examining a beautiful red feather, the sign said it was from a Fwooper, whatever that is.

"Quill's are easier to clean Harry. In more advanced magic studies, the composition of the ink is important. So it would be more difficult if you had to stop and clean your pen out every time you needed to switch ink." Prof. Emiya answered.

"But what about regular pens, wouldn't that work?" Harry argued.

"When I say composition of the ink, Harry, I do not mean color or thickness. It is often necessary to add blood to ink Harry." Prof. Emiya replied. That kind of unnerved him, would he need to cut himself in order to write, however, the professor seemed to think it was normal so He let the subject drop.

After selecting his ink, including one that changed colors as you wrote, they brought his purchase up to the counter.

"Shirou, do you have any Demiguise hair? I had a customer buy almost thirty liters of the stuff. At the current rate I will run out by the end of the month." The young woman at the counter demanded from the professor.

"I might have a pelt or two in storage. Let me check and I will let you know tomorrow." The professor answered quickly.

After paying fifteen Sickles for his purchases, they left the shop.

"Professor, why does everyone always ask you for things?" Harry asked. Even the apothecary had asked if the professor for Dragon tongues.

"I am the primary seller of rare ingredients. I am one of the few wizards willing to go into dangerous areas in order to hunt dangerous creatures or wild herbs. Now that I will be teaching I have left the running of my operation to the goblins."

Harry wondered if his professor was like those heroes from fantasy books, traveling around the world for the sake of adventure and fortunes.

* * *

><p>Prof. Emiya took them back into the Leaky Cauldron for lunch. The professor muttered something under his breath about the only good tea in the Alley. The Professor ordered a Mutton Sandwich from the Barkeep, Tom, and Tom offered Harry some Sheppard's Pie and a pint of butterbeer. Butterbeer it turned out was probably the sweetest drink he had ever tasted, almost like drinking pure honey and sugar.<p>

Conversation was light over lunch. It turned out that the Prof. Emiya was from Japan and it was going to be his first year at Hogwarts as well. It made Harry glad that the professor was probably just as nervous as he was about the start of school.

"Harry, before we go and get your books, I need to ask you about any accidental magic you can remember performing." Prof. Emiya asked after he took a sip of his tea.

"Why?" Harry responded.

"Accidental magic is an example of your magical talents. Say you got angry at a school bully, if your magic defended you it could change the bully's hair to be green or you could have accidentally turned him into an animal. These represent charms and transfiguration respectively."

"Well I can't remember everything but once I was running from my cousin once and ended up on the school roof." He tried to explain to everyone that he did not know how he got up there but no one believed him.

"Once my aunt tried to cut my hair and by the next mourning it had all grown back." He was grateful; his aunt had practically made him bald.

Harry continued. "Once I accidentally turned one of Ms. Figg's cats green." Ms. Figg just thought the cat got covered in paint.

"And just recently I made a piece of glass vanish and then talked to a snake at the zoo." He finished. That stunt had him grounded to his cupboard for a week.

"Well, starting at the beginning, that first one sounds like apparition. It is a form of transfiguration. Turning a cat green and vanishing glass sounds like charms. So those are taken care of in the basic course books." The professor explained. "Growing hair back is a rare form of self transfiguration, to due so with mage craft is incredibly difficult. You might have one of the special disguise talents naturally; we'll get you a book on them."

"I do not recall there being any special form of magic that derives it self from parseltongue, the snake language, but it is always useful to speak a different language. Be sure to experiment with the ability."

Alright let's get your school books then.

Prof. Emiya led Harry to a shop called Flourish and Blotts. Like most bookstores the shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books and tomes. However, even Dudley would have liked to see some of these books. There were books the size of postage stamps, books covered in silk, and tomes covered in strange symbols. At the counter they picked up the standard package of first year books along with his Defense book, Curses and Counter-curses by Professor Vindictus Viridian.

"You would be surprised how useful a simple Tongue-Tying Curse is in a wizard duel."

After looking around the store a bit more Harry also bought Hogwarts, A History, The Theory behind Self Transformations (including Animagi), and The History of the Magical Bloodlines.

* * *

><p>"The last thing we need to do, Harry, is get your eyes checked, your glasses look old and broken." Prof. Emiya said as they were walking back to the Leaky Cauldron. Prof. Emiya was carrying all of Harry's school supplies in the steamer trunk. Harry wondered if he was using magic to assist him.<p>

"Okay, where do we go for that?" Harry asked happily. Finally he would be able to see the chalkboards at school. He always had to squint at the board and that gave him a headache.

"There is only one wizarding hospital in England, St. Mungo's. It is on the other side of London, so we will catch the Floo from the Cauldron." Prof. Emiya instructed as he shifted the trunk on his shoulder.

"Floo?" Harry asked.

"Ah, yes, you have never used Floo before. The Floo Network is system for fire travel. Using a special mixture of powder, you can connect magical fire by the power of names. There are only two limitations to fire travel. The first is the fire must be magical in nature and second is fire travel cannot cross large bodies of water. So a Floo in England could never connect to a Floo in France." Prof. Emiya explained. "A fire magus invented this a few hundred years ago, something about being afraid of flying."

"Is it difficult?" Harry asked as they entered the back of the Leaky Cauldron.

"No it is really simple. You don't actually have to do anything; I'll take care of everything." The Professor then led him to the Cauldron's fireplace. After tossing a few Knuts into a flowerpot, the professor threw some green dust into the fire. As he dragged Harry into the fire with him, he called out. "Saint Mungo's."

The entire trip barely lasted a second before Harry was ungracefully deposited on an atrium floor. The professor however was standing just like he was in the Cauldron.

"Don't worry Harry, it gets easier the more you use it, I find that with must magical travel it is best to keep walking."

After gathering himself up, he followed the professor through the shabby looking atrium. He guessed it looked like any other hospital waiting room, except instead of plastic chairs, they were wooden, and all the magazines had strange names like Witch Weekly, The Quibbler, or The Banshee Rag. Soon they were at a receptionist desk; the receptionist looked like she was a hundred years old.

"What's your emergency!" she snapped at them.

"I require a Healer to look at my charges eyes, before he goes off to school." Prof. Emiya responded.

"Healer Collins will be with you shortly, Take a seat." She demanded angrily.

After about ten minutes a man in lime-green robes approached them.

"Hi, I am Healer Collins, if you could follow me." He led them down a hallway to the left and then into a small examination room. "What's the patient's name?"

"I am Harry Potter, sir." He told the Healer.

"The Harry Potter, yes, you do look like your father. I was in your father's year at Hogwarts. Okay let me get your medical file." The Healer stated.

"But I've never been here before, how could I have a file?" He asked confusedly.

"You were born in St. Mungo's, Harry. Almost all magical children are born in St. Mungo's." Healer Collins explained calmly.

He guessed that made sense, It wasn't like he could remember too much of his early childhood. It only took the Healer ten minutes to come back with the file.

"Okay Mr. Potter, let's check out your eyes." The healer than began waving his wand back and forth across Harry's eyes. To him, it did not seem like the healer was doing anything but after a few moments the exam seemed to be over.

"Well nothing to serious with your eyes, corrective spells are out until you are older, so you can either get new glasses or I can fix up your current ones." Healer Collins told him in a quiet voice.

"Can I get some new ones?" He asked eagerly.

"No problem, it will only take me thirty minutes to make you a pair. But, before I send you out to the lobby I found a few discrepancies with your file Mr. Potter." Healer Collins told him with a frown.

"What?" That frightened him. Was he right before with Hagrid, was he not magical. Was there something wrong with him?

Sensing Harry's fright, Healer Collins answered quickly, "It seems you have not had your basic potions, the ones to prevent Dragon Pox and Spattergroit. These are serious magical maladies for children and the preventive potions are a necessity before heading off to school. I have taken the liberty of bringing them here."

He gestured to two small vials on the counter. One was a nasty shade of yellow and the other was the shade of puce that Uncle Vernon turned when he was angry.

"Drink these, they may taste horrible but they are necessary." Healer Collin assured him.

He complied. However, the healer was understating how bad they would taste. The yellow potion tasted like manure, and the puce potion tasted like vomit.

"Lastly, you have never had a qualified Healer examine your scar. It could have left lingering effects. You shouldn't feel anything." The Healer then proceeded to wave his wand around Harry's head. To any observers, it must have looked pretty silly.

After about a minute the Healer seemed to be finished.

"Well I can tell the scar was caused by Dark Magic, but it does not seem to be affecting you Mr. Potter. If you get any random headaches at school, make sure to go see Madam Pomfrey." The Healer advised.

He and the professor waited in the atrium for twenty minutes until the healer came back with Harry's new glasses. They were pretty much the same as his old glasses but the frames were thinner. When they left St. Mungo's the Professor hailed a cab to take them back to Privet Drive.

* * *

><p>As he got out of the cab at the corner of Privet Drive the first thing that Shirou noticed was the lifelessness of the neighborhood. Every yard had grass cut to an exact length and all of the shrubs were sculpted the same. Even in the twilight the street shouted the fallacy its residents were trying to hide.<p>

He quickly paid the cabby and unloaded Harry's trunk from the boot.

"Okay, Harry, which one is your relatives." He asked Harry as the cab drove away.

"We live at number four. Professor I can handle it from here." Harry told him. That was what really worried him. Harry was avoiding the subject of his family, and now he was trying to keep him from his relatives. He had to meet them for himself.

"It's alright Harry; I need to speak with your relatives." He assured the boy as they walked towards number four. As they were walking he noticed that several of the neighbors had peered from their windows to sneak a glance at him, however, as soon as they saw Harry they looked away. That was not a good sign.

As they approached number four, he took analysis of the protections. It seemed the house was protected by a simple bounded field. The field seemed to be an old blood ward, one of the more simple ones that any magus worth their weight could have easily broken. He also noticed a few of the neighborhood cats were actually Kneazles or part Kneazle. He wondered if there was a magical house nearby.

Harry let him into the house and it seemed that his relatives were not at home. "Harry, where are your relatives?" He asked. It wouldn't be good for him to leave an eleven year old alone.

"They took a small vacation for the weekend, they should be back tomorrow mourning." Harry responded quietly to his question. That was reasonable, probably why he was with Hagrid, instead of his relatives.

"Alright, which room is yours so I can put your trunk down?" He asked. It wasn't that the trunk was heavy, especially with his reinforcement and the other rituals he had undergone. He just needed to make sure his relatives were treating him alright. Harry led him into the smallest bedroom, it was a little sparse and the furniture was old, but the room was acceptable. He placed the trunk down at the end of the bed.

"Well, Harry, if your relatives aren't here I can leave them a note on how to get to the platform on the first." He told Harry. It was apparently pretty complicated, He had only been told because he was expected to ride the train with the students, and Dumbledore had said something about tradition.

As he came down the stairs the Dursley family came in the front door. His first impression was not a very good one. The man and the boy were overly large compared to Harry. As soon as the man made eye contact with him, the man charged.

"NOT ANOTHER FREAK!" The large man bellowed as he charged Shirou. The rotund man set up for a right hook to his jaw. Vernon Dursley was a large man, who probably had some boxing experience. However, against a properly trained magus, who honed his body for combat. It was like a child striking a brick wall.

The result was obvious; Vernon Dursley broke his hand against Shirou's jaw.

"You FREAK, what did you do to my hand!" Vernon bellowed out. He was flabbergasted, the man punched him and it was his fault. How did that make any sense?

Well first he needed to take control of the situation.

"I apologize for startling you. I am one of your nephew's teachers; I was just helping him place his school supplies in his room." He explained to the enraged man. There was no reason to be rude. The man was just upset at finding an intruder in his home. Yeah, that was it.

"I've had enough of FREAKS for today. Not only the giant-FREAK but now this ONE. First they chase us with letters, then that giant-FREAK hurt Dudley, and now this ONE has broken my hand." Vernon bellowed towards Harry who had rushed to the top of the stairs when he heard his Uncle return.

"What happened to your son?" He shouldn't have been surprised, Hagrid had done something. Hagrid had a notoriously bad sense of humor.

"That giant-FREAK tried to turn Dudley into a pig." Vernon rounded into him. He could see why the man was upset. Human transfiguration was a delicate subject one false move and you could cause serious harm. As muggles there would be almost no safe way to remove any damages.

"Let me see your son so I can undo the Transformation." He ordered the man. Fortunately enough the man seemed to want the transformation undone more than his hatred for freaks. It turned out that all Hagrid had done was give the boy a pig's tail.

"_MUTATIO REVERTI_" He spoke as he forced the prana in the boy to disperse. Quickly the boy's tail disappeared. If the boy had been magical Hagrid's spell woudl have done nothing.

"I apologize for Hagrid's conduct Mr. Dursley. He should not have done that to a muggle. Transfiguration is a dangerous art and should not be used so lightly. I will speak to Hagrid about his conduct later, you have my assurances." He explained to Vernon. Had the transformation gone further it could have killed the boy. Seriously what was Hagrid thinking?

"I want nothing to do with any more FREAKISHNESS. All it has done is hurt my family; I want no more of IT." Vernon demanded as he turned a shade of puce. This wasn't good; the man was clearly enraged he needed to appease him somehow.

"Okay, Mr. Dursley, I can see your disapproval of magic, how about this. I will take your nephew to the station on the first, if you can manage to hold yourself till then, I will find somewhere else for Harry to go next summer." He had many contacts in the magic world; just about anyone would love to take Harry Potter for the summer.

"So only one more month with the boy, I won't like it." Vernon responded. After a few more details were discussed, Shirou had it on good faith that the Dursley's would pretty much ignore Harry for the rest of the summer.

Before he left he took Harry aside and gave him his phone number just in case there were any problems.

"Will you really help me get away from here professor?" Harry asked him with a tinge of hope in his voice.

"Yes, Harry, I will help you find someplace else to stay next summer. It might be a little bit of work involved but, nothing to strenuous. Now I will be here at six on the first be ready. Goodbye Harry Potter."


	4. The Platform, The Castle, and The Hat

Disclaimer – I do not own Harry Potter or any character from the Nasuverse. This is a work of fan fiction.

Author's Note – First off, Thank you for all the support even though it looked like a dead story. It was truly inspiring seeing all the messages I received to continue this story. Hopefully I can get the next chapter out sooner.

Two things to note, I have made a slight change in Chapter 1, Shirou versus the Dark Lord. For the sake of my plans for this story, Shirou must not meet the Dark Lord until later. So while the attack on the _Queen_ still occurred, Voldemort was not present at the time.

**The Platform, The Castle, And The Hat**

The rest of Harry's summer was rather peaceful. Dudley did not want anything to do with him, so there were no Harry Hunting trips. Uncle Vernon's hand had to be put in a cast so he spent most of the time forcing Dudley or Aunt Petunia to help him out. It was actually pretty sad, Uncle Vernon couldn't even pour his after dinner scotch; Aunt Petunia had to do it for him. Aunt Petunia was the most pleasant, she just ignored him.

It was the first time that he could remember not having chores or cleaning. He didn't even have to make Dudley's breakfast anymore. He got to spend an entire month reading his books and playing in the park. Since Dudley wasn't bothering him anymore, he actually got to play football with the neighborhood kids.

The neighbors also didn't bother him as much anymore. He thought it had something to do with his new clothes. He didn't look like he was in elephant skin clothes now.

He had a wonderful time reading his new school books; he spent many of the long nights reading out of his various books.

The most interesting thing happened about mid-August. After reading the first chapter of his Self-Transfiguration book, He attempted some magic. The book had said to the best way to start was something small like color of the eyes or length of hair. So he decided that he would try to make his hair change color. After staring at the mirror for almost an hour he finally got his hair to change to a dark blue. It wasn't much but it was a start. The real problem was, he could not change it back.

After freaking out for another hour, he calmed down and realized that he did not see anything limiting his hair color at Hogwarts so he was probably okay.

* * *

><p>Harry woke at five in the morning on the first of September and he was too nervous and excited to go back to sleep. So he got up and put on his new school uniform minus his robe. It was actually the nicest clothes he had, a nice white dress shirt and a pair of slacks. He figured he could put the robe and tie on, on the train. He double checked his trunk and then went and made himself breakfast.<p>

Prof. Emiya arrived at the door at exactly six in the morning.

"Good morning, Harry. Are you ready to go?" The professor asked.

"Yes, Professor." He responded as he pulled his trunk out the door. He was glad that the Dursley's were still asleep he did not want to deal with them today. Thank goodness that the professor seemed to understand.

The professor helped him load his trunk into the boot of a waiting cab.

It took the cabbie only three hours to get to the station. So they arrived at nine' o'clock. It was Harry's first time to King's Cross Station, and it was one of the busiest places he had ever been.

Prof. Emiya was carrying his trunk with one hand and guiding him through the crowd with another. The professor didn't even seem bothered by the other people in the station. He lead Harry through the station not ever letting the crowd stop him. Harry wished he could have that kind of confidence.

One thing had been bothering him since they had left privet drive. "Professor, where is your luggage?" He questioned.

"As a Professor I had the privilege to send my things ahead. So my luggage is already awaiting me in my room. All I brought with me is a book to read on the train." The professor answered as they came upon platform nine.

Uncle Vernon had scoffed at the idea of Platform Nine and three quarters, saying that there was no such thing. Harry was worried when he saw the plastic sign for platform ten.

"Professor, where is the platform?" He asked with hesitation.

"I honestly don't know Harry. No one told me either. But I would assume it is behind that bounded field over there." The professor answered as he pointed to a large brick pillar in the center of the platform. To Harry it just looked like a brick wall.

"Alright Harry, here we go." As the professor grabbed his shoulder and walked towards the wall. He braced for impact and closed his eyes. After a moment, he opened his eyes to a scarlet steam engine that was waiting next to a platform that was just beginning to be packed with people. An overhead sign said Hogwarts Express, eleven o'clock.

"Let's find you a cabin Harry." The professor said as he led Harry toward the train. He could not believe the chaos that was the platform, cats of various colors wandering around between people's legs, owls hooting unhappily from their cages, and the sound of trunks being drug around.

Prof. Emiya led him to the middle of the train to find a compartment. After Harry was settled into his compartment, the professor made his farewells. "Okay, Harry, I will see you at dinner, and remember if you need anything, my door will always be open."

"Thanks, Professor Emiya."

Harry was glad to have the kind man as professor. Many of his primary school teachers were mean to him because the Dursley's had made up some lies about him. He was definitely glad to have teacher that could not be bullied by someone like the Dursley's.

After a few moments he followed the professor's example and got out a book to read for the train ride. However, he did not get very far into his book because moments after the train started moving there was knock on the compartment door. In came a young girl with bushy brown hair and slightly bucked teeth.

"May I sit here?" she asked.

"Sure."

As she took a seat she noticed, his book _The History of the Magical Bloodlines_. He had not got around to reading it this summer and it seemed like the perfect book to skim on the train ride.

"Is that a required text?" She asked in nervous surprise.

"Is it important? Will we need it in class? Are Magical Bloodlines important? Will we need to know that for the Sorting?" She continued too quickly for him to respond.

As he gestured in placating manner he spoke. "No, this is not a required school book. I was just skimming it to see how important Magical Bloodlines are in the Magical World."

She looked shocked then suddenly nervous.

"Are you alright?" he asked the strange girl.

She looked ashamed while she spoke, "I am sorry, I did it again, I always do that to new people, I really am sorry."

"It's alright, let try again my name is Harry." He said as he held out his hand.

"My name is Hermione Granger." She responded as she took his hand.

The new pair talked for almost an hour about various different things. It turned out that Hermione was a Muggleborn and she and her parents were very excited about her attendance to Hogwarts. Harry was glad to meet someone just as excited and as nervous as he was about attending Hogwart's. It turned out that Hermione was bit of a bookworm but Harry just thought it was a part of the inquisitive girl's charms.

About halfway through the train ride a trolley came full of various candies, however both he and Hermione both declined, Hermione because her parents were dentist and Harry because he had made himself a larger breakfast than normal.

Shortly after the trolley had left a small chubby boy burst into the compartment.

"Have you seen a Toad, I've lost him, he was a gift from Uncle Algie, I can't lose him. Gran will tan my hide if I've lost him." The boy Harry recognized as Neville spoke as he descended into a small panic attack.

"No I haven't seen a Toad, Neville." Harry responded, "But I can help you look."

Neville quickly looked up when Harry spoke his name and a look of recognition crossed his face. "R-right your Harry, we m-met at Madam Malkin's the other day."

"Yes, and I can help you look for your toad." Harry re-iterated.

Hermione, not one to be left out, spoke next, "Oh, I can help too."

So the three intrepid first years left the compartment in search of Trevor the Missing Toad.

* * *

><p>While the intrepid first years were off on their quest Shirou Emiya sat alone in his compartment at the front of the train. After dropping of his young charge, Shirou did a quick patrol of the train. He did not sense anything particularly dangerous aboard the train so he was relatively sure that the train ride would go quietly and quickly.<p>

Much to his dismay the ride was anything but quick.

He had decided that he would spend the train ride reviewing his new students' grade list for his class. It was actually worse than he had feared. It seemed that the lack of any standardized syllabus for Defense Against the Dark Arts had left students vastly unprepared for their O.W.L's or their N.E.W.T's not to mention vastly unprepared for any real danger situations.

It seemed in the last seven years that each new professor only really taught the area that they had experience, his predecessor, Rowlett, only taught about minor ward defense and breaking to all the levels. It was the same story for the seven years that Shirou had to review; some years had really good foundations in law, others not so much. Third years had an impressive knowledge of creatures but almost nothing in the practice of wandlore. It was actually quite maddening.

Defense Against the Dark Arts is actually a pretty varied course. Shirou was truly amazed at what the course required him to teach to students. The entire seven years of the course were to cover the basics of: wandlore, prominent creatures, defensive spells, offensive spells, dueling, wards, rituals, wizarding law, and wizard culture. It truly was one of the most varied courses. Each topic could have an entire course or more dedicate to one such topic. He was pretty sure that Clocktower had multiple semesters for most of the outlined courses.

Defense was also the class that had the most class periods. He would teach four years a day for a total of eight classes a day with one free period every other day.

Shirou spent nearly four hours reviewing his notes.

As the train approached the wizarding village of Hogsmeade in the early hours of twilight Shirou packed up his notes and placed them back inside his trusty coat.

He exited the train and followed the herd of students towards the Threstral driven carriages. He blinked as he remembered about Hagrid's domesticated flock of Threstrals. While he was admiring the skeletal looking horses a young girl approached him from behind.

"Are you Professor Ameeya?" asked the girl.

Shirou turned and was surprised by the girl, no young woman's incredibly pink hair. He also noticed the prefects badge on the young woman's robes.

"It's Emiya" he stressed the pronunciation of his name for her, "and yes I am Professor Emiya."

"Excellent I am Tonks and I am supposed to guide you to the Great Hall this evening." She explained.

So he and Tonks shared a carriage to the castle. Shirou used this time to query his new student about her previous professors. Shirou was glad to hear the opinion of the seventh year. It seemed that Tonks was looking to be an Auror for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She had been studying extra hard in her defense class in order to help prepare herself for Auror training. Shirou listened to the horror stories of how some of the other various defense professor met there untimely demise.

* * *

><p>"Don't worry Neville, I am sure Trevor will show up eventually." Harry told the shy boy as they stepped of the train in the village. The three intrepid first years at spent hours looking for the missing Toad but it seemed like no one had seen the Toad on the train. Neville had at least been sure that the toad was on the train.<p>

"Gran is going to kill me." Neville whined piteously.

Hermione rolled her eyes "I do not think it is that bad Neville, Harry's probably right Neville, Trevor will show up, eventually."

Harry looked around hoping to see Prof. Emiya again, so the professor could tell them where to go from here. He saw the professor being lead away by a pretty girl with pink hair. Just as he was about to go over to him another voice drew his attention.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here. All right there, Harry?" Harry heard a familiar voice of Hagrid call out from just a little ways away.

"Sorry, abou' ducking out on you the other day Harry, but I had very important Hogwart's business to attend to." Hagrid apologized to Harry.

"It's alright Hagrid, Prof. Emiya taught me a bunch of cool things" Harry told the giant man.

"That's good Harry, Shirou really knows his stuff, you should get him to tell you how he once fought a Nundu with nothing but a bow and arrow."

Harry didn't know what a Nundu was but Neville's jaw seemed drop at the statement. Harry was about to ask Neville about it but was interrupted by Hagrid addressing the crowd.

"C'mon, follow me – and more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me."

Hagrid's bellowed into the crowd of students. After a quick headcount Hagrid led Harry and the rest of the First Years down a dark narrow path towards a large lake.

"Yeh'll get your firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec" Hagrid called out over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

There was a loud, "Oooooh!"

The narrow path had opened suddenly unto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry, Neville and Hermione were joined by a red headed boy named Ron in their tiny wooden boat.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself "Right then – FORWARD!"

The fleet of little boats took off from shore in perfect unison surprising Harry. The boats carried all the first years across the lake swiftly and smoothly. The only thing of note on the trip across the black lake was that Neville's toad Trevor decided to reappear by jumping into their boat.

After reaching the opposite shore of the lake, Hagrid led them up a small path towards a short flight of stone stairs which ended at a large oaken door. Hagrid raised a fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

* * *

><p>Shirou had to admit he was impressed; Hogwarts definitely lived up to its reputation. The Magical Castle was practically sentient as far as he could tell. With so much magic in the air it was like being on the ley line of Fuyuki again. As Tonks led him through the castle Shirou extended his magical senses to the castle. He could now understand why the Headmaster called Hogwarts the safest place. The number of bounded fields that protected the grounds was inconceivable; the castle could withstand a complete magical siege IF all the wards were activated at the same time. However, Shirou noted that many of the castles protections lay dormant, like the statues and the suits of armor. Shirou also sensed the various ghosts in the castle.<p>

When Shirou entered the Great Hall behind Tonks the first thing he noticed was the illusion sky on the ceiling. Shirou admitted to himself that the illusion was an impressive piece of work but he had seen a similar ceiling in one of the Clock Tower's Ballrooms, when Rin drug him out to a high class event.

Shirou took his place at the high table, in between a plump little witch he knew as Pomona Sprout and the diminutive half goblin professor Filius Flitwick. He exchanged with his various pleasantries with his new co-workers. Filius invited him to the monthly staff poker game at the Hog's Head, they didn't play for much but the owner let them drink for free on that night. He figured it would be a good way to socialize with his new peers.

The rest of the hall was quite loud as students talked about various things, until the Headmaster called for silence and a few seconds later the Deputy Headmistress lead the First Years into the Great Hall for the first time.

Minerva McGonagall led the first years up to a small stool with an old wizard hat and she waited for something to happen. Shirou was surprised when the hat twitched and then burst into song:

"_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall, _

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all_

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where the are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuff are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Racenclaw,_

_If you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends'_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

The whole hall burst out into applause at the conclusion of the hat's song, it was at that point, that Shirou decided, he hated the hat.

The Deputy Headmistress then began to call out the new students names starting with Hannah Abbott.

Shirou did not pay much attention to where the students were sorted until McGonagall called out "Potter, Harry." And then the entire hall broke out in whispers, it seemed that the students were really excited to see Harry come to Hogwarts. Poor Harry look scared out of his skin. He watched as Harry sat on the stool and McGonagall placed the 'evil' (in Shirou's mind at least) hat upon the young boys head. The boy sat silently on the stool for far longer than anyone else had Shirou was worried until the hat suddenly shouted "GRYFFINDOR."

The Gryffindor table burst out in thunderous applause, and it seemed to excitable boys jumped up and down screaming "We got Potter."

Harry quickly joined the Gryffindor table sitting next to the blonde boy he met in Diagon Alley, Neville if he remembered correctly and a girl with bushy brown hair.

The rest of the sorting was relatively unexciting. After the last student was sorted Dumbledore stood to address the room. "Welcome" he said "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts. We have one more sorting to do this evening. I would like everyone to meet our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Shirou Emiya."

There was a polite round of applause and Shirou was a little embarrassed.

"Since Professor Emiya did not attend Hogwarts I think it fitting for him to be sorted since it is also his first day in the castle." Dumbledore spoke with that annoying twinkle in his eye. Shirou wanted to protest, however Filius quickly whispered in his ear. "Just do it or he will be incorrigible for days." Shirou let out a brief sigh and rose to his fate.

Shirou sat upon the tiny stool and let McGonagall put the hat upon his head. Shirou instantly knew that this was a bad idea.

"_Aha, an Emiya full of pointy objects and many secrets" _

Shirou cursed in his head. He knew the hat was out to get him.

"_Such foul words young man just be glad the children can't hear that horrible mouth of yours."_

He immediately thought of all the ways to destroy the evil hat.

"_No need for death threats. Your wife would be upset if you killed me."_

He did not believe the hat.

"_Fine! Don't believe me. Ask her yourself. But that is beside the point, I have a job to complete. However you are rather easy to sort. Better be - HUFFLEPUFF"_

There was a round of applause as Shirou reclaimed his seat at the High Table. After Shirou had returned to his seat the headmaster began again. "Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank You." To the unobservant these words would have seemed completely random but to trained Magus the simple misdirection would not work.

It was really quite simple; Nitwit, Blubber, Oddment and Tweak were the four house elves in charge of laying out all the food on the tables.

After a pleasant dinner Shirou retired to his Chambers to get some sleep, so that he was well rested for the days ahead. He only hoped he was as good a teacher as Taiga.


End file.
